


The Worst Place

by stiley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Boners, Closets, M/M, derek gets boners in inappropriate places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:52:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stiley/pseuds/stiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's life is just that embarrassing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Place

**Author's Note:**

> This probably will become a series.

“Dude, is that your  _dick_?” 

Derek freezes up. He’s already pressed as hard against the wall as he could be, trying to stay as far away from Stiles as possible, except it’s nearly impossible with how small the broom closet is. He has what he thinks is a broom digging into his back and he’s trying his hardest to will away his growing erection. 

“ _No_ ,” He lies, thinking about dead kittens, dumpsters, anything but the way Stiles’s ass feels pressed against his hips. “You’re imagining things.” 

He’d like to run away, really he would, but the broom closet’s locked with some kind of strange magic. It’s almost like the witches  _knew_  and he’s not happy about it.

“Do you get off in life or death situations or? Because that’s pretty strange if that’s the thing that gets you going.”

Derek can practically taste the sarcasm and he would hit Stiles, but he’s already having trouble willing away his boner without moving. He’s embarrassed enough as it is and Stiles doesn’t seem to be making it any better. 

“ _No_.”

“Really now?” 

Stiles shifts his body like he’s trying to turn around, but the space is too small for that, so his ass just ends up grinding against Derek’s entire front. His face must be firetruck red by now and if it wasn’t such a horrible situation, he’d be tempted to roll his hips or something, anything to finally make the feeling that’s building up  _end_.

The friction’s a little too much, so Derek hisses, “Stop that!” 

“Stop what-” Stiles cuts himself off, finally realizing what’s happening, “Dude, holy shit, what? It’s? Fuck.”

Derek’s really regretting his existence now because he can hear Stiles’s heartbeat race faster than before. His own heart beats just as fast, nearly beating out of his chest. 

He forgets the entire function of his lungs when Stiles asks, “Want me to do something about it?” 

“What?” He whispers. 

“Well, you can’t exactly walk out there like that.” 

He has a point there, and he breathes out a quiet, “Yeah,” before he can think better of it. 

Stiles shifts again, but this time with intent because he rolls his hips. It’s all he can do, really, since he can’t turn around anyway and Derek closes his eyes. The entire closet reeks of arousal by now and it’s not just his own. 

Derek can’t hep but move with Stiles, feeling the heat build and build until Stiles groans, “Fuck,” just as Derek comes along with him.

He slumps back, Stiles a warm weight against his chest and that’s when they finally hear the steady sound of sneakers pounding against the hall floor. When Scott finally manages to wrench the door open, he’s more focused on getting them out and finally finding the witches than anything else. 

“Well,” Stiles says later, after they manage to chase the witches out of town, “Should we finish what we started?” 

Scott’s gone home by now and it’s just Stiles and Derek left in the loft.

“Yeah, we should.”

 


End file.
